News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-05-19

''I shouldn't think you had called my
house a prison and dungeon" he re
torted.
"Well, it is the gloomiest, the"
''Now hush, my darling; hush, yor
little vixen, said Mark, laughing, witt
his hand on my lips, cor you'll say some
thing you'll be sorry for.
you've said something you'll be sorry
for, calling me a vixen. / may
be a vixen, butifyou were gentleman
But the Myerses always were tyrants, aud
1 IN glad I've found you out in time-so
calm. so cool, and SO fixed in your own
way. And I'll never, never go and live
in your old prison-house," / cried,
growing angrier and angrier, Heaven
only knows why. ''And you must Just
whistle for your dog, and go there your
self, and go alone. / never want to see
your face again" And before he could
grasp me and prevent me, I had flashed
into the house, and had shut and bolted
the door,.
He waited then; he waited, I should
think, an hour. And [ sat inside, burn
ing with anger, and with an unconscious
sense of shame, very likely, and bitter
disappointment, and a wild, unnamed
fear. And at last he rose slowly and
looked at the windows, and turned away
and called old Roland, and went slowly
down the lane. And he never came back.
[ could see him walking along, ever so
slowl ly, in the clear moonlight, with the
dogs nose in his hand, till the road
turned into the wood that mounted the
hill. And when he had gone I Just
threw myself on the floor, and all but
dissolved in my mad tears. And l didn't
know what the tears were for-whether
for fear of losing Mark, or for fear of
losing my home, or for fear of giving up
my will; but it seemed to me that the end
of the world had as good as come.
We were both orphans, we both had
these great properties, and we had both
better have been beggars.
That was June, and the full-moon. 1
didn't sleep any that night hardly
know why; presentiment of evil kept me
waking, although [ was so tired. l re-
member that moon now, hanging in the
purple sky, with her wide wings, like q
great boding ghost. Every time looked
out, there she was. By-and-by she be-
gan to frighten me, and [ shut her out,
but lay awake all the same, my mind in
a wild whirl
The next evening, in the long after
glow of the sunset, [ tripped. down the
lane to the wood, sure that [ should meet
him, as always had done, on his way to
me; but the shape I had been used to
see bounding down the path I did not
see again. went close to the shadow
of the wood, but only old Roland came
and put his nose in my hand, and waited
with me while / waited, and went back
with me little way when / went back.
1t did not occur to me to think that
where Roland was, his master was not
far distant. And went down the lane
no more.
After that, then, one day crept by, and
another, and life continued in the old
way, and all the business of the great
farm thrived in the hands of Bryan, the
overseer, and all seemed to me
mere idleness. The moving machines
were hIlmming all day in the meadows,
and the huge loads of fragrant hay came
laboring into the barns, and thunder
clouds made panics, and the lightning fell,
rs it always did on the wet, low grounds,
md burned one or two hay-stacks;
md then the gondelows went down the
river for the salt hay, and came back,
lays afterwards. with their dark square
sails set atop of their square loads of
thatch; and one by one all the concerns
Of ripening and harvesting had their
season, and passed, and August was over.
And Mark had never once been up the
ane again; and September had gone,
md the harvest-moon; and the hunters
noon had poured its silver floods of
light out of great lonely heaven; and
,till Mark had never come.
1 suppose Mrs. Wells, my next neigh
1or, knew all about it. And Mrs. Saw
yer, on the other side, of course, knew
III that Mrs. Wells did. They were
7ery good to me, and they and the girls
we're always running in to see me, or
sending for me to run in and see them.
don't think was trying to carry things
,ff with a high hand, and L know I
wasn't hanging my head and crying over